


Kiss You Back to Life

by Speary



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Coda 11x23, Destiel - Freeform, Destiel Drabbles Daily Contest, First Kiss, M/M, POV Castiel, Season 12 mini-fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-11
Updated: 2016-09-11
Packaged: 2018-08-14 12:16:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8013382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Speary/pseuds/Speary
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean was dead, and Cas had promised to keep watch over Sam. It didn't matter that he wanted to go with him, that he wanted to end at his side. </p><p>* Season 12 speculation fic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kiss You Back to Life

The world around him was summer hot. The sun shone down bright like it had something to promise. People were praying out thanks. They were happy. The world was saved, and those that knew, those that understood, felt joy for it. Castiel closed his eyes against the glare of the sun’s brightness on the windshield. He tried to also close his mind to the joyous revelries of those that thought that a moment such as this required celebration.

 

Sam drove at his side in silence. He neither prayed nor spoke one word from the time the doors to the vehicle closed, perhaps sensing the need for each to grieve in their own way. Castiel kept his eyes closed and chose to breathe. Sometimes doing human things gave him comfort. He filled his lungs with the warm air of the Impala. He picked up molecules and scents that lingered in the space. He sorted them until he found ones that he could tie to Dean.

 

He’s dead. Dean’s dead, and there’s nothing anymore. He clutched his fists inside his coat pockets. He promised to watch out for Sam. He tried to imagine what it would be to live for someone that wasn’t Dean. It was Dean that he was living for though. He had asked, that he keep Sam safe.

 

He breathed again and pulled in what he could of Dean. He held him like this on the long drive. The air in his chest stung a little with memories and what he viewed as failures. He moved a hand to his chest and left it there, palm pressed flat as if to hold the little of Dean he had in place. Or maybe it was a move meant to keep his heart from careening out of his chest in defeat. After all, promises were made, promises to Dean that he had to keep.

 

They arrived at the bunker late. Sam flexed his hands as he got out and closed the door. The steel tight grip he had on the steering wheel likely left his hands rather stiff. Castiel stopped at his side near the front of the Impala. He looked at his face, a stony mask that he wore to keep from falling apart entirely. Sam dipped his head and turned for the door. Castiel set a hand on his back for a moment as they walked. Before they entered the bunker from the garage, he said, “I’m sorry, Sam.”

 

Sam stopped walking. Castiel felt his anger, his sorrow, all of his emotions pouring off of him like water after the frost breaks. He was shaking. His hands at his sides clenched and unclenched into fists. He punched the wall with a sob. “Damnit Cas. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. He didn’t deserve this.”

 

He moved his hand in circles on Sam’s back, pouring what comfort he could into the movements. “I know. He always deserved better, always.” He looked to the door, wanting to do something anything. He felt hollow like nothing could ever fix it. The worst was the way that he could still feel the pull of Dean’s soul, just like he had when Dean lived. He wondered how long it’d be before the pull lessened, became a dull throb, then ceased.

 

Castiel considered the millennia he had lived before, the years and years of life spent observing. He considered the gaps in his memories. Time was a funny thing, and he had holes in his past that he chose to ignore. His heart beat fast in his chest despite the lack of necessity. It did that. Usually, it was tied to Dean, to his moods and presence. Sam broke through his thoughts, “I keep thinking there’s gotta be some way to fix this. We’ve always figured something out. I just can’t…” He pressed his head to the wall and cried.

 

Castiel hesitated a moment, not sure what to offer. Then he pulled the man to him. He hugged him tight like he could will away the pain that he himself knew too well. He knew what Sam was thinking, his own thoughts weren’t so different. He’d pulled Dean from Hell, rebuilt his form. He couldn’t fully imagine a universe that could keep him from doing what he must to keep Dean in it.

 

The problem this time was that Dean wasn’t anywhere. His form was too scattered too destroyed to recover. Yet even now, he felt him. He wondered at that. He wondered how it was that despite everything, he could feel Dean pulling at him. If he focused on it, would his vessel splinter off into the universe? Would his particles drift away one by one in an effort toward finding what they could of Dean? 

 

He opened his eyes into Sam’s shoulder. His head rested where Dean’s had hours before. He took another small breath and collected a little more of Dean in his chest. His own emotions shook him a little too. Sam squeezed him back. A few moments later they parted. Sam wiped a hand over his eyes and sniffed back further tears. “He’d pick on us mercilessly right now.”

 

“I wouldn’t mind that.” Castiel felt his lips curl up in a small smile at the thought of Dean standing here, telling them what a bunch of babies they were. Yeah, he’d be plenty okay with that.

 

“Yeah.” They moved into the bunker together. This time, Sam let his hand settle on Castiel’s back for a moment. They traded comfort, and Castiel was glad of it. He needed the connection, the anchor that Sam provided. Sam turned his head to him as they walked. “He told you before he left, right?”

 

They paused in their steps. Castiel asked, “Told me what?”

 

“How much you meant to him.” Sam’s expression was earnest.

 

“He told me we were family. He told me that the two of you viewed me as such. I was grateful. I know what family means to you both.” Castiel could hear Dean’s words again, a dim echo floating around in his mind.  _ You’re family. _

 

“You’re important to us both. He wasn’t wrong. You’re family. His feelings ran deeper though. Did he talk about that?” Sam’s hand came up to his arm and gave him a little squeeze.

 

The move focused him a bit more. “He did not.” He looked away from Sam’s face for a moment though. The pull of Dean was heavy here. He could feel him, fierce and strong. He wondered if he would even be able to tolerate being in the bunker for any length of time.

 

“I suppose he’d never have been able to say it out loud. Dean always was a bit emotionally constipated.” Sam laughed, a quiet laugh. “He loved you though. He was lost and miserable when you were gone.”

 

Castiel looked away. “I feel a great measure of guilt over that. His last months on this earth were spent worrying over my choices.”

 

“He never wanted you to feel guilty about that. I’m certain.” 

 

They turned from each other to head into the War Room. “It was the same for me. He never needed to say it.” Sam looked at him then and smiled. 

 

—-

 

There was a flash of light and darkness. He was certain that he had screamed something, some warning.  _ Sam, Sam! _ He thought back to what he had seen. The woman stood there in the room, holding a gun. The sigil on the wall was fresh with her blood. He felt the frustration coiling in his gut.  _ I should have heard her, sensed her. _ He hadn’t been able to focus though. Everything was Dean. All of his senses were on Dean overload. He thought he had heard him, like a prayer snaking up out of the past into the present. He felt the pull almost as hard as a summoning.

 

It would destroy him if he kept focusing on it. More likely something would kill him because he would be distracted. He focused on the area around him, despite the way he felt. There were trees and a distant wavery bit of moonlight breaking through the trees.  _ How long did I lay there? _ He got up on unsteady legs. His chest felt tight like the air within it was trying to break free. He squinted out at the darkness. 

 

Something was out there. He dropped his blade into his hand and stalked toward it. His heart hammered in his chest. He felt strange. His muscles tightened with each step. He wanted to stop and collect his thoughts. He had to get back. He had to save Sam. He had to keep this one promise at least. His mind swam with feelings. He’d failed Dean. His hand gripped the blade tighter.  _ I have failed him. _

 

He drew closer to the noise. His heart was racing. He could hear Dean in this place, a phantom sound likely meant to drive him mad. His words floated on the air, in his mind.  _ Cas, I’m alive. Come find me. _ He felt the pull, the familiar pull again, but he wouldn’t believe it. Dean was dead. He was dead and there was no fixing it.  _ This will only lead to madness. _ His head darted to the left. There was a noise coming from that direction. 

 

He saw movement. Something white moving through the trees. He stopped moving forward.

 

“Something’s out there. We need to run.” The voice was familiar. A woman’s voice. Then whatever was out there was running. They were running away from him. Despite that, he moved with some stealth and a little less speed.

 

He followed until they came to a road. They’d managed to put some distance get plenty of distance between themselves and Castiel. So much so in fact that they’d managed to get a car. He stood at the road and looked toward the horizon where he could see red taillights. He squinted at the vehicle. The sun was rising in the distance, painting the horizon in dusty rose.  _ It can’t be. _ The vehicle slid to a stop nearly a mile down the road. He could just pick out several dark shapes oozing from the woods onto the road in front of them. The vehicle spun around and was now barrelling back toward him as he stood in its path. 

 

The headlights burned bright. The Impala roared toward him. The dark masses were moving onto the road and toward them. Castiel held his ground though. It was Dean’s car.  _ How did it get here? _ He’d just been in the vehicle with Sam. The car slid to a violent stop just in front of him. The dust flew up into the beams of light like smoke. He leveled his gaze past the blinding light to the two figures in the car.  _ It can’t be. _ His heartbeat was slamming out a drumbeat in his chest that matched the sounds of battle that he’d surely be in if they stayed much longer. The dark mob was moving toward them.

 

The driver’s side door opened, and a man looking an awful lot like Dean stalked toward him. “‘Bout time you got here. Get in the car.” Castiel stood frozen. The man sounded like Dean, looked like Dean.

 

He grabbed Castiel’s coat and shook him a bit. Castiel breathed in.  _ Dean. _ “You’re alive.” His words sounded shaky even to him.

 

“Glad you picked up on that.” Dean pulled him like he was about to rush back to the car, dragging Cas with him. Cas grabbed him back though effectively stopping him short. 

 

“You’re alive,” he repeated, holding him. His hands moved up to Dean’s neck. He held him there looking at him. The dark figures were far enough away that they could still make an easy escape. Castiel felt an urge to fight though. He felt a need to lose the passivity that seemed to have been so much a part of so many choices that got them here. His fingers dug in a little into the flesh that was Dean. “Dean.”

 

Dean’s gaze locked onto Cas then. There was more reasons to run than to stay, but they didn’t move. “Sent up a prayer so you’d know.”

 

“I thought I was imagining things. I didn’t dare hope.” His words were breath and quiet and tinged with a joy that the impending danger should have knocked to the ground.

 

He wasn’t letting go. He kept Dean there, right there, as close as he could. “Not to bring an end to this little reunion here, but we need to be going, I think.” Dean cocked his head toward the figures that were more fully formed now and considerably closer. 

 

Cas looked then said, “Or we fight. We shouldn’t leave them for someone else to deal with.” He let Dean go and stalked toward them. Blade in hand he braced for the fight. Dean strode up to his side.

 

“You sure?” 

 

“We’ve got this.” Cas smiled. Dean opened the trunk and pulled out a rifle and an angel blade. A woman came to the side of the car.

 

“Mom, this is Cas. Cas this is my mom.” He nodded toward the trunk. “Weapon up if you feel up for it.” She looked from him to the battle ahead of them. She didn’t speak. She reached into the trunk and chose a third angel blade, tested it for balance with a swirling motion and stood next to Castiel.

 

“Ready,” she said and strode out toward the battle.

 

Castiel and Dean followed her. Castiel held just his blade. It was all he needed. He took a moment to glance at Dean. He felt the pull of him again, so familiar, so blessedly familiar. And Sam’s words swam through his head.  _ He loved you. _ He reached up to Dean, cupped his face in his hand, and pulled him into a kiss. It was rough and quick, and messy. For what felt like the millionth time they were facing death head on, and he wasn’t about to face it this time without knowing the taste of this kiss. 

 

He half expected Dean to shove him aside, not in rejection, but because now was maybe not the time. He didn’t though. He seemed shocked for a whole three seconds, then he threw his rifle wielding hand around Castiel’s back and pulled him to his chest. They parted as quickly as they came together. “We’ll need to revisit this on the other side of this battle,” Dean husked out.

 

Castiel nodded his agreement, and the two of them rushed to join Mary and the approaching battle. They’d win it. Castiel had faith in that much. Dean grinned at what lay ahead, his eyes alive with the potential fight. The sun was rising, the battle was on, and they would stand at the end of it all victorious.

**Author's Note:**

> If you feel like finding me on Tumblr, I'm [Spearywritesstuff](http://spearywritesstuff.tumblr.com/).


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